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- 

THE TEACHER’S HELPER, 

Vol. IV. MAY, 1898. 


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JUN *41898 




4 




AUNT MARTHA’S CORNER 
CUPBOARD 


OR 

STORIES ABOUT TEA, COFFEE, SUGAR, RICE, Etc. 

BY 

/ 

Mary and Elizabeth Kirby 

American Edition Edited by 
W. F. ROCHEEEAU. 


ILLUSTRATED 



CHICAGO : 

A. FLANAGAN, Publisher 


TWO COPIES RECEIVED- 













CONTENTS 

I. The Corner Cupboard ------ 7 

II. The Story of the Tea-Cup.14 

III. How the Tea-Cup was Finished 22 

IV. The Story of the Tea .33 

V. The Story of the Sugar .43 

VI. The Story of the Coffee - 56 

VII. The Story of the Saet.75 

VIII. The Story of the Currants - 85 

IX. The Story of the Rice .93 

X. The Story of the Honey.103 



AUNT MARTHA’S CORNER CUPBOARD. 


CHAPTER 1. 
the corner cupboard. 

I am afraid that Charley and Richard Knight 
gave their teacher a great deal of trouble. 

The school they went to had just broken up 
for the Christmas holidays, and neither of them 
had stood well in his class. Indeed, they were 
never likely to do so, judging from the way in 
which they went on. 

They were good-tempered lads, and favorites 
with their playmates. If they had a cake sent 
them from home, they always shared it with the 
rest of the school. And they were first and 
foremost at every game that was played. Their 
blue eyes were always twinkling with fun; and if 
they had been sent to Mr. Birch’s Academy 



aunt martha’s 


merely to enjoy themselves, it would have been 
all very well. 

But it is of no use mincing the matter: they 
were the most idle lads in the school. Nobody 
could make them learn their lessons—not even 
Mr. Birch, though he was very strict and now 
then gave them a caning. 

It was a pity they were so idle. Their papa 
was a learned man, and wished them to follow 
in his steps. It made him very unhappy when 
they came home without a prize; and always, by 
the next post, a long letter from the schoolmaster 
to complain that he could not make them work. 

Their mamma excused them, and said it was 
“time enough.” But their papa was of another 
opinion, now that Richard had turned twelve; 
and he used to shake his head, and look very sad. 

This cold, snowy Christmas the boys were not 
going home. It was a promise that they should 
spend the holidays with their Aunt Martha; and 
her old-fashioned sleigh was at the door to take 
them. 

They had not the least objection, for they 
were very fond of Aunt Martha, as indeed was 
everybody that had ever seen her. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


9 


She lived in a house with gable ends, just as 
you turn into the village. It was a very old 
house, and was said to have been built in the 
days of the Puritans. It was quite covered with 
ivy; and there was a large garden, but the snow 
had hidden everything in it. 

The rooms were large, but very low. The one 
Aunt Martha liked the best had the morning sun 
upon it, and looked into the garden. And here 
she had her work-table, and her basket of knit¬ 
ting, for her eyes were not very good, now she 
was getting old. And here she sat all the day 
long. 

Close by was her corner cupboard, that she 
kept locked, and the key was on a bunch that 
she carried in her pocket. She never left her 
cupboard open, because it had so many things 
in it. 

The boys knew the cupboard by heart. Out 
of it came sweet cakes, and honey and sugar; 
and tops and marbles, and all the things they 
liked. And there were no tiresome spelling- 
books, or grammars, or anything of the kind, to 
plague them. 

But you must not suppose that Aunt Martha 


10 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


was an ignorant lady. Far from it. She knew 
many things indeed, and she did not like the 
thought that her dear nephews should grow up 
to be dunces, which was likely to be the case. 

Of course, she did not presume to think she 
could teach them as well as Mr. Birch, who un¬ 
derstood Latin and Greek, and had kept school 
twenty years. But she had a scheme in her 
head to teach them something. 

Not that she intended them to learn lessons in 
the holidays,—that would have been extremely 
unkind. The knowledge she meant to give 
them was not to be found in their lesson-books, 
thumbed and dog-eared as they were; for an idle 
boy can wear his book out without using it. 
No; the lore she was thinking about was contain¬ 
ed close by, in her corner cupboard. 

It seemed to Aunt Martha—for she was a lady 
of a lively imagination—as if everything in that 
cupboard,—her china, her tea, her coffee, her 
sugar, even her needle,—had a story to tell, and 
a most entertaining one, too. Had not many 
of the things been in foreign parts, where there 
are great palm-trees, and monkeys, and black 
men, and lions, and tigers? 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


11 


And if they had not been abroad, they were 
sure to have something to relate that the boys 
had never heard. 

The boys loved to hear stories told them. 
There was a time, just when it got dusk, before 
the lamp was lighted or the tea and plum-cake 
brought in. Charley and Richard would have 
played about all day long, and pelted each 
other with snow balls, and made slides on the 
pond, and scampered up and down the lane, till 
their legs, young as they were, began to feel 
tired. And then it was nice to sit on the hearth¬ 
rug before the fire, and hear Aunt Martha tell a 
tale. 

Now, Aunt Martha had prepared a great many 
tales, and had them, so to say, at her finger-ends. 
She had not to make them up as she went on, for 
that would have spoiled everything. Indeed, I 
almost think she had learned them by heart. 

She hoped that when her dear little boys had 
heard all the curious things she was about to re¬ 
late, it would make them want to read for them¬ 
selves. 

Charley and Richard had no idea of the trouble 
their good aunt was taking on their account, 


12 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


and they did just as they had always done. They 
trundled their hoops, and threw snow-balls, and 
scampered about to their hearts’ content. And 
when, at last, their legs began to ache, good old 
Sally, who had lived with Aunt Martha for near¬ 
ly thirty years, fetched them in, took off their 
wet boots and put on dry ones, and brushed their 
hair, and washed their faces and sent them into 
the parlor to their aunt. 

“She’ll have a story to tell, I warrant,” said 
old Sally, who was a little in the secret. 

Now, everything happened just as Aunt 
Martha had planned. 

The boys wanted a story as much as ever, but 
they wished for something new. 

They were thoroughly acquainted with “Jack 
the Giant-killer,” and entertaining as he had 
once been, they were by this time a little tired of 
him. 

They knew “Cinderella” and “Little Red Rid¬ 
ing Hood” by heart, and they did not want to 
hear them over again. Not that they could get 
really tired of such delightful stories, but they 
“might lie by,” Charley said, “for one Christmas, 
and something else come out.” 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


13 


Aunt Martha was quite willing—indeed, this 
was just what she had been planning for. Her 
dear old face brightened up, and looked as pleased 
as could be, when Charley settled himself on the 
rug, and Richard brought a stool and sat close 
by, their merry blue eyes fixed intently upon 
her. 

Then Aunt Martha began to relate her first 
story—“The Story of a Tea-Cup.” 


14 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


CHAPTER II. 

THE STORY OF THE TEA-CUP. 

“Rome,” as I daresay you have heard, “was 
not built in a day.” 

People who use this expression,, mean by it 
that nothing of any value can be done without a 
great deal of time and trouble. 

The tea-cup seems a simple thing, and you 
use and handle it very often, and drink your tea 
out of it every afternoon. But perhaps you have 
never been told its whole history, and do not 
know that it takes a vast amount of labor, and 
sets a number of persons to work, before it can 
become a cup at all. 

I will speak of the best china, that is kept on 
the top shelf in the cupboard, and only comes 
out on company days and holidays. It is very 
superior, let me tell you, to the blue and white 
cups and saucers in the kitchen, that have no 
gold rim round them, and did not cost nearly so 
much money. 

The word china will remind you of a country 
a long way off, where the gentlemen have great 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


15 


plaits of hair, that look like tails, hanging down 
their backs, and the ladies hobble about in little 
shoes turned up at the toes. 

The Chinaman drinks a great deal of tea, be¬ 
cause he likes it, and the tea grows in his coun¬ 
try. And cups of tea are always being handed 
about on little trays, that everybody may have 
some. So the Chinaman has a great deal of 
practice in making tea cups, and can do it re¬ 
markably well. 

I am sorry to say he is not of an open disposi¬ 
tion, and likes to keep everything he knows to 
himself. 

He would not tell the people who lived in other 
countries how he made his cups, though they 
were very curious to know and asked him over 
and over again. 

There is a town in China where a great many 
potters lived, and made their beautiful cups. 
The streets were quite crowded with the potters, 
and boat-loads of rice came every day for them 
to eat. 

There was a river close by the town; and 
when the cups and pots were finished, they were 
packed and sent away in the boats. The potters’ 


16 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


furnaces were always burning to bake the cups, 
so that at night the town looked as if it were on 
fire. 

The potters would not let a stranger stay all 
night in the place, for fear he would find out 
the secret of the cup-making. He was obliged 
either to sleep in one of the boats, or to go away 
till the next morning. 

But it happened that two strangers had been 
on the watch for a long time, and at last thought 
they had found out the secret. 

One day they bought some great squares, or 
bricks, that were being sold in the market and 
carried off by the potters. They felt quite sure 
this was the stuff the cups were g*oing to be 
made of. Now the bricks were sold on purpose 
to be used in the potteries. They were made 
of a kind of flint called petunse , that looks bright 
and glittering, as if it had been sprinkled with 
something to make it shine. And the China¬ 
man collects it with great care, and grinds it to 
powder and makes the bricks of it. 

The two strangers carried the bricks home to 
their home country, and set to work to make 
cups. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


17 


But, alas! they could do nothing of the sort. 
They were like a workman who had left half 
his tools behind him. For they wanted another 
substance to mix with the petunse , and that was 
called kaolin . 

Now kaolin w^as dug by the Chinaman out 
of some deep mines, that he knew very well, 
and often went to. 

It lay about in little lumps, and he picked it 
out, and made it into bricks just as he had done 
the other. 

And he laughed very much when he heard 
what the “barbarians,” as he called them, had 
been trying to do. For he did not pity them in 
the least. 

“ They think themselves very clever,” he said, 
“ to make a body that shall be all flesh and no 
bones.” 

He meant that the kaolin was hard, and could 
not turn to powder when it was burnt as the 
petunse did; so that it was like bones to the cup, 
and made it firm. Indeed, without it the cup 
was too soft, and did not hold together. 

I should not have told you this long story if 
it had nothing to do with the best china. But 


18 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


people can get this kind of clay in America, 
England, and other countries. It does quite as 
well as the Chinaman’s bricks, and the best 
china is always made of it. People come a long 
way to look for the “ porcelain clay,” as it is 
called; and they dig it out of the earth, and 
carry it to a great building w T hich is a porce¬ 
lain manufactory, where all kinds of cups and 
saucers, and jugs and basins are constantly 
being made. 

And as soon as the clay gets there, it is thrust 
into a machine, where it runs upon a number 
of sharp knives that work round and round, 
and have been set there on purpose to chop it to 
pieces. When it has been chopped long enough, 
it is turned into a kind of churn, and churned 
as though it were going to be made into but¬ 
ter. Indeed, when the churning is over, the per¬ 
son who has churned it calls it “clay-cream.” 

Other things, such as flint and bone, are now 
mixed with it. But, in order that they might 
work in harmony one with the other, the flint 
and the bone had each to be ground to a fine 
powder, and then made like itself into “clay- 


cream. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


19 


The two creams, in two separate vessels, are 
carried to a room called “the mixing-room,” and 
put into a pan of water and stirred well about. 

They are stirred until they are quite smooth, 
and without an atom of grit. 

But as cups can not be made of the clay- 
cream, it has to be made solid again. And it is 
boiled over a fire until the moisture is dried up, 
and it is very much like dough. A man now 
begins to slap and beat it, and cut it in pieces, 
and to fling the pieces one on the other with all 
his might. And when he has slapped it long 
enough, he says it is quite “ready for the potter.” 

The potter is called “ a thrower,”—and it is a 
good name for him. 

He flings a ball of the clay on a little round 
table before him, with such force that it sticks 
there quite fast. 

The table is called a whirling-table, for it is 
made to whirl by machinery as fast as the potter 
wishes. As the table whirls the potter pinches 
and pats and works the clay with his fingers, 
giving it what he calls a “ shape.” He can do 
just what he likes with the clay, and can make 
it into any shape he pleases. 


20 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


He has some tools to help him, such as little 
pegs and bits of wood, with which he scrapes on 
the outside and presses on the inside until the 
clay is brought to the form of a cup. When 
this is done he stops the table and takes the 
cup off, but it is not finished. 

Aunt Martha had scarcely time to finish the 
last sentence before there was a tap at the door, 
and old Sally came in with the tea things. 

Now, the best china had been taken down and 
carefully dusted; for Christmas was looked upon 
as a high day and a holiday, and Charley and 
Richard were company, as a matter of course. 
As their heads were still running upon cups and 
saucers, they jumped up and began to look at 
them, and to talk about ‘‘flint,” and “clay,” and 
“kilns,” in a very learned manner, and one that 
made old Sally smile. 

Aunt Martha was very much pleased, for she 
saw that her story had been carefully listened 
to and had not gone in at one ear and out at the 
other, as such instructive stories sometimes do. 

And she was more pleased still, when her lit¬ 
tle nephews asked her a great many questions, 
and wanted to know more about “the tea-cup.” 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


21 


She did not tell them any more just then; for 
she was a wise old lady, and she wished to keep 
their curiosity awake, and not let them have too 
much of the subject at once. 

So she talked about something else all tea- 
time, and then she had out puzzles and bagatelle, 
and a great many other games, to make the even¬ 
ing pass pleasantly. But old Sally told her that 
when the boys went to bed, and she brought away 
their candle, they were talking very fast about 
“the tea-cup.” 

And the next afternoon, when they had fin¬ 
ished running about, and their hair had been 
brushed, and their faces washed, they ran into 
the parlor where their aunt was sitting, and 
asked her to go on with her story, for they want¬ 
ed to know a great deal more. 

Now it was rather early, and Aunt Martha 
had hardly finished her afternoon’s nap. But 
she did not like to keep the boys waiting. So 
she roused herself up, put a log of wood on 
the fire,—for it was very cold,—and when Char¬ 
ley and Richard had settled themselves, she be¬ 
gan, or rather went on with—“The Story of the 
Tea-Cup.” 


22 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


CHAPTER III. 

HOW THE TEA-CUP WAS FINISHED. 

The cup was, as I told you, taken off the 
wheel. It was then set aside to dry; and very 
soon it reached what the potter called “the green 
state”—though he better have said the “hard 
state” for it was getting gradually harder. It is 
next taken to the turning-lathe, where all its 
roughness is smoothed away, and its appearance 
very much improved. But the first cups were 
by no means so handsome as those now in use, 
and they had no handles. 

The Chinaman makes his cup without a han¬ 
dle; and when tea-cups were first used in this 
country, they had no handles, and were very 
much smaller than they are now. People in 
those days could not afford to drink much tea 
at a time, it was so dear and so scarce. 

But fashions are always changing, and in our 
days every cup must have a handle. 

The handle is made separate from the cup, 
and fitted on afterwards. It is nothing but a strip 
of clay cut the proper length, and pressed into 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


23 



a mould to make it the right shape. The man 
who does this takes pains to make it fit very 
neatly. 

The parts where the handle is joined to the cup 


THE POTTER AT HIS LATHE—MAKING A VASE. 

are wet with a certain mixture of clay and water, 
to make them stick; and they do so at once. 

The cup is now put into a square box, or case, 
with sand at the bottom. Other cups are placed 
in with it, though care is taken to prevent them 
from touching each other. Another box, just 











24 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


like it, and full of cups is set over it, so that the 
bottom of one box make a lid for the other. All 
the boxes, piled up in this way, are put into an 
oven, called “the potter’s kiln.” This oven is 
in the shape of a cone, and has a hole at the top 
to let the smoke out. 

The Chinaman is at the trouble of putting 
each cup into a separate box in order, as he says, 
that its delicate complexion may not be spoilt 
by the fire! 

When the cup is taken from the box, it is 
pure white and nearly transparent. It is not 
yet thought worthy of the name of porcelain, 
and is merely called “biscuit china.” 

People were a long time before they found out 
how to paint pictures on the cup, or to give it 
its beautiful gloss. 

The surface was not hard enough to hold 
the colors, and wanted a coating upon it that 
is called “ enamel.” 

At first no one except Chinamen knew how to 
make enamel. But an English potter named 
Bernard Palissy tried again and again to make 
it. Indeed, he spent all his time in trying first 
one thing and then another. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


25 


He made cup after cup, and coated them over 
with what he thought was the right thing; but 
not one of them would do. And at last he be¬ 
came so poor that he had no wood left to heat 
his furnace—just at the time, too, when more 
cups were ready to go into it. 

He wanted wood to such a degree that he 
became quite frantic, and felt that he must put 
something into his furnace, he did not care what. 
He ran into the room where his wife was sitting, 
and snatched up the chairs and tables as if he 
had been crazy, and ran with them to his fur¬ 
nace. 

It is a comfort to know that he succeeded at 
last, and earned a great deal of money. But 
many improvements have been made in tea-cups 
since his time. 

Before the pictures are painted on the cup, it 
is nicely cleaned, to remove any atom of dust; 
and then it has to be glossed, or, as it is called, 
“glazed.” The stuff that gives it its gloss, and 
makes it shine, looks like thick cream, and is 
kept in wooden troughs in a room called “the 
dipping-room.” 

A man dips the cup into the trough, and turns 


26 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


it about in such a way that every part shall be 
coated, and yet every drop drained out. 

It is now put on a board, and, with other cups, 
again baked, but in a cooler oven than before. 
When it comes out of the oven it shines with 
the beautiful gloss you see. 



SECTIONAL VIEW OF CHINA-KILN— 
SAUCERS PACKED FOR BAKING. 


But it is not finished; for it is a bare cup, 
without and pictures of flowers or fruit, or fig¬ 
ures like those on the best china. 

It is taken to a room where there are long 
tables, and a great many windows to let in the 
light. 




CORNER CUPBOARD. 


27 


In China one man paints nothing but red, 
another paints nothing but blue; and so on. 
But here, in the painting-room, there is a little 
difference. One man paints flowers, another 
leaves, another fruit, and another figures. 

The colors they use are obliged to be made of 
metals—such as gold, iron, and tin—for nothing 
else can stand the heat of the furnace, in which 
the cups have once more to be baked. Indeed, 
the painter now and then pops his cup or his 
saucer into the kiln before it is quite finished to 
see how the colors will stand. 

When the cup has been painted, and baked 
for the last time, it is taken to another room 
still, where there are a great many women and 
girls busy at work. 

Each girl sits with her face to the light, and 
takes a cup in one hand, and a stone called an 
agate in the other. She rubs the parts of the 
cup that are intended to look like gold with the 
stone until they become of a brilliant gloss, and 
shine as if they were gold. 

There is a place in Staffordshire, England, 
called “ the Potteries,” where cups and pots have 
always been made. 


28 


AUNT MARTHA S 


In olden time they were very rough-looking 
things, and had neither gilding nor gloss. But the 
people who used them were just as rough, and 
so was the country round. 

The roads were very bad indeed, and full of 
deep ruts, so that no carriage could go over 



CHINAMAN BAKING HIS CUPS. 


them. There were no towns or factories, and 
the potter lived in a little thatched cottage like 
a hovel. 

He had a shed where he worked at his wheel 
and baked his pots. He dug the clay out 








CORNER CUPBOARD. 


29 


himself, and his boys helped him to “throw” and 
“press,” and do all that needed to be done. 

When he had finished making his pots, his 
wife used to bring up the mules from the com¬ 
mon, where they were grazing, and get them 
ready for a journey. She put panniers on their 
backs, filled with her husband’s pots; and then 
she set off, over the bad, rutty roads, to the 
towns and villages to sell them. 

That part of Staffordshire is still called “the 
Potteries; ” but it is very much improved—and 
has great towns, and factories, and good roads, 
and is not at all what it used to be. 

One of the towns is called Burslem; and a 
potter named Mr. Wedgwood lived there. He 
spent all his life in making the cups of a more 
beautiful kind than had ever been made before. 
They were of a cream color; and instead of the 
ugly figures that were in fashion then, he 
painted them with flowers and fruit, as we see 
them now. 

One reason why he got on so well was be¬ 
cause he took so much pains, and would not let 
anything pass unless it was perfect. If a cup 
came off the wheel with the slightest fault in it, 


30 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


he would break it to pieces with bis stick, and 
say, “ This will not do for me.” 

Charley and Richard were so interested in 
what Aunt Martha had been telling them, that 
Sally tapped at the door twice before they 
heard her. And then, when she had brought in 
the tea, and the muffins hot out of the oven, 
they could neither eat nor drink for talking 
about “the tea-cups.” And Richard began to 
wonder what Aunt Martha’s next story would 
be about, and tried to make her tell him. But 
she did not think this would be wise; and all 
he could ascertain was that the subject of it 
would come out of her corner cupboard. 

It was clear, however, that this story had done 
them good; for the next morning, Charley and 
Richard, instead of spending every moment in 
play, walked up and down the garden-walk, talk¬ 
ing about the clay, and the glaze, and the enam¬ 
el—things they had known nothing about 
before. 

But their greatest pleasure was to come; for 
strolling out by the gate into the lane, they 
spied, all at once, some bits of broken pottery. 
You would have thought they had found some- 



CORNER CUPBOARD. 


31 


'•’hing very precious indeed, they were so pleased. 

They picked them up, and carried them off in 
triumph into the old tool-house, where Char¬ 
ley at once set to work with a great stone to 
pound them to powder. He had nearly broken 
them up, to mix with some clay that Richard 
brought out of the ditch when the thought struck 
him that these blue and white pieces of pottery 
were not like Aunt Martha’s best china. He 
would go in and ask her if they were. 

Aunt Martha was seated at her work-table, in 
the parlor, when the boys, with dirty hands, came 
running in. She sent them out again to wash 
their hands, and then told them that Charley was 
right. Her best cups and saucers had the pat¬ 
terns painted on them, and required much great¬ 
er skill to make than these. 

Common blue and white cups—such as Char¬ 
ley had a bit of in his hand—were managed in 
quite another way. A paper, with the pattern 
printed on it, was wrapped round each cup. The 
cup was rubbed for a long time; and then set in 
water. The paper soon peeled off, but the blue 
marks were left behind. 

Richard and Charley wanted to know a grate 


32 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


deal more, but Aunt Martha would not answer 
any of their questions. So they went back to 
the tool-house again, to play at potters. What 
delightful work it was! so delightful, that Charley 
made up his mind to be a potter as soon as he 
was old enough,—and if his papa would let 
him. 

Richard said, if he was a potter he should to 
go to China; and then he remembered his dog¬ 
eared geography in his desk at school and thought 
when he went back he would look into it, and 
see if it said anything about china. He should 
like to know a little more than Aunt Martha 
had told them. 

That afternoon Sally had to keep the boys 
from going into the parlor too soon; for their 
faces were washed and their hair brushed half an 
hour before the usual time. 

But good Aunt Martha was ready; and when 
she heard their feet pattering along the hall, she 
got up and opened the door. Then Charley set¬ 
tled himself on the hearth-rug, and Richard 
brought a stool; and the boys were as still as 
mice while Aunt Martha told them—“The Story 
of the Tea.” 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


33 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE STORY OF THE TEA. 

A tea cup is not of much use, if it is kept 
only to look at. It needs to be filled with good 
strong tea. 

Tea grows in China, where the beautiful cups 
are made on purpose to hold it. And it was sip¬ 
ped by emperors on their thrones, and by their 
grand mandarins, many years before we knew 
anything about it. And even now, the best of 
the tea is kept at home for the benefit of the 
Court, and it is only the next best that finds its 
way into our tea-pots. 

About two-hundred and fifty years ago, there 
was no tea in England except what people made 
of the herbs that grew in their gardens, such as 
mint, and thyme, and sage; no one, not even 
their majesties, the kings and queens, had ever 
tasted a cup of real Chinese tea. 

But it happened that in the year 1610—for I 
dare say you would like to know the date—some 
Dutch ships brought a little tea to Holland ; and 
then a little more was brought to England, and 


34 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


people talked about it as “a new drink that came 
from China.” 

Everybody would have liked to taste some of 
it, but it was very difficult to get; and when a 
present of two pounds of tea was made to the 
king, he thought it a very handsome gift indeed. 

Not many people cou'd buy tea in those days; 
and even when they did get it, they hardly knew 
whether it was to be eaten or drunk. 

By slow degrees, however, tea found its way 
to every home in England, and finally to 
America, and in these days everyone can afford 
to buy it. It is welcomed in the palace of the 
Queen, and it affords refreshment to the poorest 
cottager. A cup of tea is equally grateful to all. 

It must be confessed that tea makes its 
appearance under great disadvantages. No one 
who has seen it growing in the Flowery Land of 
its birth, can suppose it to be the same thing. 
And it is rather whimsical as to where it grows. 
The north is too cold, and the south is too hot; 
but there is a middle tract of country neither 
too hot nor too cold, that suits it the best. 

The tea plant is a tree, and it varies in size 
according to the country and climate in which it 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


35 


grows. The wild tree, in the hot climate of 
Southern India, sometimes grows as high as 
thirty feet. But in the cooler and drier climate 
of China it is much smaller. 



The Chinaman lets his trees grow for three 
years, then he cuts off the ends of the branches 
so the tree will become bushy and produce 
a large quantity of leaves, for these are the 





36 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


valuable part of the plant. The trees in the tea- 
gardens of China are about four feet high, and 
are trimmed so as to have a round, bushy top 

This plant is called by the Chinaman Teha or 
Tha , and from this word comes our English 
name of tea. 

It has white flowers, a little like the wild 
rose; and when the flowers wither some green 
pods, that contain the seed, appear. The seed 
is something like a chestnut and is about half 
as large. There are from one to five seeds in a 
pod. 

The Chinaman is very careful how he sows 
his seeds, because he must grow a number of new 
trees each year if he wishes too keep his crop 
good. Hence he sows six or seven seeds in one 
hole, to be quite sure that some of them will 
come up. 

The leaves are, as already stated, the most 
important part of the plant. They are very 
handsome and glossy, like the leaves of the ca- 

melia that lives in the hothouse. But it is not 

/ 

on account of their beauty that they are so 
much valued; they have some good qualities that 
no other leaves possess. 


. ..—- — ..— ■ ■■ ..... 


CORNER CUPBOARD 


37 



PICKING TEA LEAVES 






















38 


aunt martha’s 


When a person drinks a cup of tea, how re¬ 
freshed he feels! That is because of the reviv¬ 
ing and strengthening quality in the leaf. The 
leaf also has in it a bitter substance which might 
be called the pure extract in tea ; and this has a 
great effect in taking away the feeling of being 
wearied. 

The Chinaman has his tea-plantation, just as 
we have our vegetable-garden, or the Irishman 
has his potato-ground. It is called “a tea-farm;” 
and the farmer lives close by, in a funny little 
house, like a pagoda, with long pointed eaves 
to it. 

He and his wife are always busy in the plan¬ 
tation, for she helps him to weed and water, and 
her feet have no little shoes to pinch them. She 
could not afford to hobble about as the fine ladies 
do, or to be carried in a sedan chair. 

In the early spring, when the young leaves 
are newly put forth, and have a delicious flavor, 
the family begins to be very busy. The children 
came into the plantation and strip them off, 
until the branches are nearly bare. But they 
leave enough for another gathering by-and-by. 

Of course the young tender leaves are the best, 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


39 


and make the nicest tea. The Chinaman calls 
it Souchong. When the leaves that are left get 
older, they are gathered, but they are not so deli¬ 
cate, and people do not like them so well. 

There is still a third gathering, but this is 



THE TEA BEING DRIED. 


worse than the last, and makes very poor tea. 

When the leaves are stripped off, they are 
thrown into some shallow baskets, and set in 
the sun, where the wind can blow on them to 
dry them. They are then put in a pan, and 














40 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


placed on a stove with a fire under it, to be dried 
still more. While they are over the fire they 
are stirred about with a brush until they are 
quite dry. 

You may see that the tea-leaf is rolled up and 
crumpled, and that it comes straight when it is 
put into the water. The Chinaman takes the 
trouble to roll it in this way. He does it at a 
board, and rolls the leaf between his fingers. 
After this has been done, he again dries the leaves 
over the fire. 

He takes a good deal of pains to pick out all 
the bad leaves and throw them away. He knows 
his tea will be looked over, before it can be sold 
to a person who knows good tea from bad. 

This person is a tea-merchant, and lives at the 
next town. All day long, the farmers keep 
coming into the office where he sits, with chests 
of tea slung over their shoulders. They want him 
to buy, and he is quite willing. Indeed, the more 
he can get, the better, for he wants to send it in 
a ship to Europe, or the United States. 

But he always makes the farmer open his chest 
and spread his tea out before him. He looks 
at it very sharply, and takes it in his hand and 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


41 


smells it; and lie would find out at once if any 
bad leaves were left in it. But if is really good 
tea, be gives the farmer some money, and sends 
him away, leaving his tea-chest behind him. 

The farmer goes to the market and lays out 
some of his money, though he is very saving and 
thrifty, or he would not be a Chinaman. 

It was a good thing that old Sally just then 
came in with the tea, for that was what Charley 
and Richard wanted. Not that they were either 
hungry or thirsty; but it was delightful to jump 
up and look at the tea in the caddy, as Aunt 
Martha took it out with a scoop. 

It was better still to watch the water being 
poured on it, and to see the tea leaves begin to un¬ 
roll themselves and to become quite flat. Char¬ 
ley clapped his hands with glee, and they both 
skipped round the room, saying they had never 
enjoyed a cup of tea so much as now they knew 
something about it. 

The next afternoon Charley and Richard found 
their way to a room they had never much cared 
about before. This room was the library, and 
had rows and rows of shelves, with many books 
upon them. 


42 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


But besides the books upon the shelves, there 
were others on the table. And Charley, who 
was thinking very much about foreign countries, 
was glad to find a book lying open on Aunt 
Martha’s desk, telling all about India and China. 
It was full of pictures; among them were some 
of potters making cups and other vessels, and of 
people picking off the leaves of the tea-plant. 

How quickly the time passed in looking at 
them ! Instead of being tired of doing nothing, 
as Charley very often was when it rained and he 
could not play out of doors, the time seemed to 
fly ; and Aunt Martha had finished her nap and 
taken her knitting, and was ready to tell her 
story, almost before they were ready to hear it. 

Not that they were a moment too late; oh no! 
—they wanted very much to know more about 
the contents of Aunt Martha’s corner cupboard, 
and were very glad when, without any delay, she 
began—“The Story of the Sugar.” 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


43 


CHAPTER V. 

THE STORY OF THE SUGAR. 

Everybody likes sugar. The Christmas pud¬ 
ding would be nothing without it; and the plum- 
cake, and the tarts, and the custards, and all the 
nice things that boys and girls are so fond of, 
would have no sweet taste if it were not for the 
sugar. 

But its range is much wider than this. It is 
found in the ripe peach on the wall, and in the 
juicy pear, in the grape, and the orange, and 
fruits too many for me to name. The bee knows 
the taste of it right well, and finds it hidden 
deep in the bell of the flower. 

And it finds its way into the stems of plants, 
and makes their juices sweet and delicious. 
There is a tall reed-like plant, with a yellow stem, 
called the sugar-cane because there is so much 
sugar in it. 

In some places people are always chewing it. 
They cut it with their knives to make the juice 
come out, and go on cutting and chewing all day 
long. 


44 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


The sugar-cane grows in very hot countries, 
where black people live. The burning sun pours 
its rays full upon it; but this is what it likes, 



SUGAR CANE. 

and what makes its juice so sweet. There are 
several of the West India Islands, among them: 






CORNER CUPBOARD. 


45 


Cuba, Jamaica, and Haiti, in which sugar-cane 
grows, and we get a great deal of our sugar from 
these islands, but some of it is made in our 
country. At one time the black people who 
made the sugar and took care of the canes were 
slaves, and were bought and sold in the market; 
but they have now all been set free. 



HOEING THE CANE. 

A great giant called Steam helps to make the 
sugar now, and does more than all the black 
people put together. People did not all at once 
find out how helpful this giant was, and that he 
could turn mills and push carriages and do all 
sorts of work. But they were very glad when 












46 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


they did know it, and when he began to help 
them make the sugar, for weights and rollers and 
heavy wheels are nothing to him. 

A sugar-plantation is a very pretty sight. 
The tall yellow canes rustle in the wind; and at 
the top is a tuft of flowers, that looks like a silvery 
plume. And here and there black people are 
busy at work, hoeing and weeding. The women 
have blue and scarlet handkerchiefs tied round 
their heads, for they dearly love a bit of finery. 

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when 
all is still and cool, and the moon is shining, a 
troop of monkeys come racing down from some 
mountains near. Then woe betide the sugar- 
canes ! 

The monkeys love the taste of sugar; and 
they clutch at the canes with their long fingers, 
and pull them up, and bite them, and do a great 
deal of mischief. 

Happily the black man has a fancy for roasted 
monkey,—a dish we never see ; and he thinks 
it no trouble to sit watching hour after hour, 
with his gun in his hand, waiting for the 
monkeys. 

Down they come on the full run, and do not 


CORNER CUPBOARD 


47 



A SUGAR MILL IN THE WEST INDIES 



















48 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


all see him at once. But pop goes the gun, and 
one or more is sure to be shot. 

The stem of the sugar-cane is not hollow like 
the grass or the reed, but solid, and filled with 
the sweet juice we have been talking about, and 
that makes the sugar. 

But the juice, before anything is done to it, is 
very wholesome, and people who suck it are 
sure to be strong and healthy. Even the horses 
that work in the sugar-mill get as fat as can be, 
for they are always chewing the canes. Noth¬ 
ing fattens poultry half so well,—and there are 
always plenty of fowls pecking about in the 
negro’s little garden. 

But the juice, is too good to be wasted. It 
forms the material of that vast supply of sugar 
met with in every town, and village, and house¬ 
hold. This j uice has to go through a gredt many 
stages, and pass through a great many hands, 
like the tea-cup, before it is made into the white 
sugar that we use in our coffee. 

In the first place, the beautiful yellow canes 
are cut down close to the ground, and tied up in 
bundles. Then they are carried to a mill, and 
the big giant Steam sends them between great 



( 49 ) 


SENDING THE SUGAR TO EUROPE FROM THE WEST INDIAS. 


















































50 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


iron rollers and squeezes out every drop of juice. 

The juice runs into a large tank called a 
“vat,” and is made hot, lest it should turn sour; 
and a little lime is put in with it, to make it 
clear, and then the liquor is boiled very fast 
indeed. 



IN THE SUGAR MILL. 


After it has been boiled and is set to cool, a 
great many sparkling crystals will form in it, 
which are the real sugar. But the crystals are 
mixed up with a thick liquid that is called 
molasses, and which has to be taken away. This 
used to be a very tiresome process indeed, in 



















CORNER CUPBOARD. 


51 


the old days when the poor slaves made the 
sugar. 

They poured the liquor into a great many tubs 
with little holes at the bottom of them ; and it 
was left to stand a long time—till the molasses 
had slowly drained through and left the sugar 
behind. 

But in the great sugar houses of to-day, this 
is all done on a different plan, and in a much 
shorter time. When the juice has been purified 
by settling, boiling and filtering it through large 
filters of bone black, it is ready to be boiled into 
sugar. 

It is now placed in a large boiler with a dome¬ 
shaped top. This is the vacuum pan. The air 
and steam are pumped out of the pan as fast as 
the steam is formed, and the liquid boils at a very 
low temperature. 

When good-sized crystals begin to form in the 
pan, the liquid is poured into a machine called 
the mixer, where it is thoroughly stirred. From 
the mixer it is taken to small steel drums; each 
drum has a wire screen basket inside of it and 
the sugar is poured into this basket, then the 
basket is made to revolve very fast and the 



(52) 


BOILING THE SUGAR 
















































CORNER CUPBOARD. 


53 


molasses is all driven out through the screen, 
leaving the crystals as we have them. 

The raw sugar-cane, after all the juice has 
been squeezed out, is used for fuel to make the 
steam used in boiling the sugar and running the 
engine in the factory. It burns well, and there 
is plenty to be had, and it does not cost a penny. 

Most of the sugar made in the West Indies is 
packed in great casks, and sent to Europe, and 
the United States. (See Frontispiece.) 

After it gets there some of it goes through 
another process, and is made quite white, and 
some is made into tall cone-shaped loaves. This 
is called “lump-sugar,” that in most common 
use on our tables is called “granulated,” while 
that shipped from the islands is known as “raw 
sugar.” 

Aunt Martha had hardly finished speaking 
when Charley, who was seated before the fire 
with his elbows on his knees and his chin be¬ 
tween his hands, observed that monkeys had a 
better time of it than boys had. If he had been 
a monkey, he should not have minded. Just 
think how pleasant it would be to pop down 
among those sugar canes! 


54 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


Richard said he did not think so. Charley 
might like the chances of being shot, and roast¬ 
ed for a black man’s dinner; but he preferred less 
sugar and a safe life. Not that he pitied the 
monkeys for being shot; it served them right for 
being so greedy as to pull down the canes. 

Charley could not agree with this. “Sugar,” 
he said, “was so tempting—nobody knew how 
tempting,” added he, rising and looking wist¬ 
fully at the old-fashioned sugar-barrel heaped up 
with lumbs of sugar, which Salley was taking 
out of the corner cupboard. That basin was 
very full—too full; he feared that top lump would 
topple over. A remark which made Aunt 
Martha smile, and say that if he could find a 
safer place for it, he might. 

Charley said he knew of one much safer; and 
opening his mouth, waited for Sally to pop it in. 
Then he thanked his aunt by an embrace, and 
they sat down to tea. 

The next morning the two boys were early, 
and went into the kitchen just as Sally was 
putting the coffee-berries into the mill to grind 
for breakfast. Charley asked where they came 
from, and what they were. Old Sally said she 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


55 


was not book-learned; if they wanted to know 
they had better ask their aunt. 

The boys said they must; but that when they 
got back to school they would try to learn a few 
things for themselves. 

Sally though they had better be quick about 
it; for if they did not learn while they were young, 
they were not likely to know anything when 
they were old. And there were not many Aunt 
Marthas in the world. What a long tale she had 
told them last night!—too long, said she slyly. 

Charley said, Not a bit. He meant to ask for 
a longer one to-night. He wanted to know all 
about the coffee. 

So when Annt Martha came down, it was 
agreed that her next tale should be—“The 
Story of the Coffee.” 


56 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


CHAPTER VI. 
the story of the coffee. 

When the morning snn shines cheerily in at 
the window, and the snow-white cloth is spread 
on the table, coffee is always present. There 
are few breakfast-tables in the land where it is 
not to be found. 

You may know it is there by the pleasant 
odor it spreads around. It is as nice to drink 
as tea, and a great deal more strengthening. 
Many a poor man can work hard from morning 
till night, and not drink anything stronger than 
coffee. 

It was a long time before coffee was brought 
to the civilized countries of Europe; but in the 
reign of Oliver Cromwell, an English merchant 
who used to go backwards and forwards to Tur¬ 
key to trade brought a Greek servant home 
with him. This man had tasted coffee—for the 
Turks drank a great deal of it, just as the 
Chinese drink a great deal of tea—and he knew 
how nice it was. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


57 


He brought some berries home with him, and 
used to make coffee, and let people in London 
have some of it. Indeed, he at last became so 
famous for his coffee, and so much talked about, 
that he set up a coffee-house in Lombard Street, 
that is,a house where coffee is sold instead of beer. 

From this little coffee-house in Lombard Street, 
the habit of drinking coffee spread all over the 
country. 

At first, like tea, it cost a good deal of money; 
and it was brought from only one small province 
in Arabia, called Yemen. 

I should tell you that Arabia is divided into 
three parts. One is all stones and rock; and an¬ 
other all sand and desert. But there is a third 
region, called “Happy Arabia,” that is full of 
gardens and vineyards, and olive-trees. And 
here is the province of Yemen. The finest coffee 
in the world grows in “Happy Arabia.” 

But all Arabs do not live in “ Happy Arabia.” 
Many of them live on the desert or on the edges 
of it, yet I believe they are just as happy as any 
people in the world, for the desert is their home 
and all over the world people believe that there 
is “no place like home.” 


58 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


Can you imagine a great sea of loose reddish 
sand, not level, but in great waves and low 
hillocks instead of rolling water? Shut your 
eyes and see if you can see this great desert of 
sand with not a tree, a house, a stream, or drop 
of water of any kind; not a person or animal. 
Can you imagine how very, very still it must be, 
and how very lonely it would seem? 

As it never rains on the desert, no trees, shrubs, 
or even grass can grow. The springs soon dry 
up and nothing is left but the burning sand. 
Of course, no one can live for any length of time 
in such a place as that, but around the edges of 
the desert it sometimes rains, and then the soft 
green grass springs up; there are wells of cool 
water, and tall beautiful date palms wave their 
graceful plumes of leaves and hold up their 
treasures of luscious fruit. Here may be found 
low tents of striped camel’s hair cloth in which 
the Arab and his family are dozing through the 
hot mid-day hours. In a shady spot several 
camels lie contentedly. The tent is supported 
by two or three long poles, and the door folds 
back like a curtain. The inside of the tent is 
divided by a curtain of white cloth into two 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


59 


rooms, one for the men, and the other for the 
women and children. 

When the great red sun has set, and a cooling 
breeze begins to blow across the hot sands, the 
family will get up and come out to breathe the 
sweet air. The father seats himself upon a rare 
mat or rug before the door and smokes his long 
pipe; the children come out and roll upon the 
ground, or dig their bare feet into the soft sand, 
or pile it into mounds. The maids busy them¬ 
selves preparing the evening meal; they milk 
a camel, pound the coffee berries in a mortar and 
when all is ready a maid brings to the Arab a 
bowl of fresh milk, steaming cups of the most 
delicious coffee, dates, and rolls of hard, brown 
bread. When the father has finished his supper 
the mother and her children eat of what is left. 
After them the servants have their supper. 

But it has not rained here for many weeks 
and the Arab notices that the camels have eaten 
almost all the grass and the water in the well is 
very low. They must move on to where there 
are more springs of water. The next morning, 
while the stars are still shining, the tents are 
taken down and rolled up, the poles are tied to- 


60 


AUNT MARTHA’S 














CORNER CUPBOARD. 


61 


gether, the mats and rugs are made into bundles 
and everything is soon strapped to the faithful 
camels. Large bags made of camel-skin are 
filled with water and fixed to the back of the 
camel; this is the only water they will have to 
drink until they reach their journey’s end. No 
water is carried for the camels. Before leaving 
the old well, each took a long, long drink, and 
he will not need any more for four or five days. 

The camels kneel upon the sand while they 
are being loaded and when all is ready and the 
mother and children have been lifted to their 
comfortable seats upon the backs of two of the 
camels, the father mounts his beautiful Arabian 
horse and leads the way. In no other part of 
the world are to be found such beautiful horses, 
and the Arab’s horse is his dearest treasure. He 
feeds it with his own hand, even allows it to sleep 
in his part of the tent, and could not be persua¬ 
ded to sell it. Although the horse is so beauti¬ 
ful and so dear to his master’s heart, it is not so 
useful as the camel, whose large flat feet are 
made for traveling on the loose sand and do not 
sink in as do those of the horse. The camel 
furnishes milk for a nourishing drink, its flesh 


62 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


is good food, and its fine soft Hair makes excel¬ 
lent cloth, and no other animal could travel over 
the hot deserts so long without food or water. 

Soon our travelers have left the old home far 
behind, and when the sun rises he looks down 
upon the little train of travelers alone on the 
desert. Not a tree is to be seen, and soon the 
heat grows so intense that they stop and the tent 
is hastily put up. After a breakfast of milk, 
coffee, and dates, they all lie down in the tents 
to sleep until sunset. The camels, too, lie down 
to sleep beside their drivers in the shade of a 
rock. As soon as the sun sets they will 
journey on for many hours, for they wish to 
reach a cool, pleasant oasis of palm trees and 
clear streams of water before the camels begin to 
suffer from thirst. 

After three or four days of travel they see in 
the distance a grove of date palms. What a wel¬ 
come sight! The camels smell the water and 
hurry forward, and before many hours they are 
resting in the cool shade and refreshing them¬ 
selves with the water from the clear spring. 
Here they will stay so long as the water lasts 
or there is grass enough for the camels, then 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


63 


they will move further on. Do you see why 
they prefer tents to houses? 

The people of Arabia are very dark, with 
straight noses, full lips, dark earnest eyes, and 
very dark hair. The men wear upon their heads 
a turban made of a rich shawl with beautiful 
fringe; this is twisted about the head in such a 
way as to protect the head and neck from the 
intense heat. Instead of a coat, a loose garment 
called a tunic hangs from his shoulders. It is 
often made of very bright, beautiful material and 
is held in place by a cord of gold. The boy’s 
dress is much like his father’s and the little girl 
is a small image of her mother, who wears a loose, 
brown, cotton dress, falling in folds from her 
bare shoulders to her feet. Her arms and ankles 
are also bare and about them are clasped brace¬ 
lets and anklets of gold. Upon her head she 
wears a fine fringed handkerchief put on in such 
a way that it can be drawn before the face below 
the eyes when she is upon the street. The 
street, did I say? Yes, for the Arabs do not all 
live in tents on the burning sand. In places where 
the springs do not dry up, the people have built 
cities. They do not look much like our cities, 


64 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


for the streets are very narrow and the houses 
are built close to the street, and the gardens, 
when there are any, are in the open court inside. 
The houses are made of bricks of baked clay and 
are flat roofed. No doubt we should be very 
homesick in Arabia, but the little Arab thinks it 
the pleasantest place in the world. 

Mocha is the chief town, and the place where 
the coffee came from. It stands close to the sea¬ 
shore, on a very sandy plan, and at the entrance 
to the Red Sea. 

The entrance to the Red Sea is through some 
dangerous straits called “Bab-el-mandeb,” or “the 
Gate of Tears,” because so many ships are 
wrecked there. Indeed, the Arab, who is very 
fanciful, says that the spirit of the storm is al¬ 
ways perched on a rock that over looks the straits. 

Any lady in Mocha, when she goes out for an 
evening visit, carries on her arm a little bag of 
coffee, and has it boiled when she gets there. And 
all over the town people are to be seen lying on 
the ground under awnings spread to screen them 
from the sun. These are their coffee-houses; 
and there they do nothing all day but sip coffee 
and smoke their pipes. 


CORNER CUPBOARD 


65 



THE CITY OF MOCHA 






































66 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


The people at Mocha pretend that they like 
coffee best when it is made of the husk of the 
coffee-berry, and not of the berry itself. 

But all the coffee that Mocha and the province 
round could supply was very little, compared to 
what comes to Europe and the United States 
now; and of course the price of coffee was ex¬ 
tremely high. So, when it began to be so much 
liked, the kings and queens in the different 
countries of Europe set about having coffee 
planted in all places where it would grow. 

The French sent some coffee-plants to one of 
their islands in the West Indies, in order to have a 
plantation there. An officer had the care of the 
plants, and he sailed in a ship from Amsterdam. 

He had a long and very stormy voyage, so 
long, in fact, that the water on board was nearly 
all used up, and no more was to be had until 
they came to their journey’s end. Each man 
was allowed only a very small quantity a day, 
and they often suffered from thirst. 

The French officer had no more given to him 
than the rest, and he would gladly have quench¬ 
ed his thirst. But, alas! the tender plants he 
was cherishing with such care began to droop. 



( 67 ) 


A COFFEE PLANTATION 









68 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


They too wanted water; and rather than let them 
die, he went without himself, and poured the 
scanty supply given him on their roots. 

The crew laughed at him, and he had to bear 
a great many rude speeches. But, thanks to 
this act of self-denial, the plants were able to 
live until the vessel came to land. Then the 
brave officer received his reward. The plants 
grew and multiplied, and covered great planta¬ 
tions from which other countries and islands 
were supplied. 

Many places now furnish coffee in the great¬ 
est abundances. Brazil sends out almost 
enough to supply the world. The plant had grown 
wild in the island of Ceylon from the earliest 
times; and the natives used to pluck the leaves 
and mix them with their food to give it a flavor; 
they also made garlands of its flowers to decorate 
their temples; but it was a very long time before 
they made any use of the berries. 

When the coffee-plant is left to nature it 
grows about thirty feet tall. But, as a rule, its 
top is cut off to make it throw out more branches, 
so that in the coffee plantations the trees are not 
over five or seven feet high. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


69 


The evergreen leaves are slender and about 
five inches long and have a bright shiny surface. 
The flowers are white, and a little like those of 
the jessamine, and are found at the axil of the 
leaf. 



BRANCH OF COFFEE-PLANT IN FLOWER—AND FRUIT. 

When the berry is ripe it is red and looks like 
a great cherry. There are two hard seeds in it, 
like beans, that are known to every one, for they 
are ground into coffee. In many plantations 
they fall to the ground, and lie under the tree 




70 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


until they are picked up. But in Arabia this is 
not allowed. The planter, as he is called, spreads 
a cloth on the ground, and then shakes the tree, 
so that the ripe berries drop off. He then puts 
them on mats, and lets them lie in the sun till 
they are dry. And then the husk is broken by 
a roller, and the berries taken out. All his 
trouble is amply repaid, for this Arabian coffee 
is the best in the world. 

Coffee grows wild in several places in Africa, 
and its use probably started from the tribes liv¬ 
ing in those countries. This was a very long time 
ago and now coffee is used by all the civilized 
nations of the world. The coffee berry or bean, 
as it is sometimes called, is shaped very much 
like the half of a bean, and is usually of a green¬ 
ish gray color when taken from the shell. But 
the coffee we buy of the grocer is of a dark 
brown color and has a strong odor. This is be¬ 
cause the bean has been roasted. Without roast¬ 
ing the bean would be of but little use, as we 
could not get from it the qualities that make 
coffee so useful a drink. 

The beans are shipped in large sacks, and are 
roasted after they reach the large cities where 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


71 


they are to be used. After roasting, the coffee 
must be ground to a coarse powder before it is 
ready for the coffee pot. The grocer usually 
buys the whole berry and grinds it as it is sold; 
this is because people want to be certain that 
they get pure coffee. 

There are many things, such as the root of the 
chicory plant, barley, dandelion roots and even 
burnt crusts of bread, that can be mixed with the 
coffee, and this is often done to make the coffee 
go further, and when the coffee is ground these 
cannot be seen. We sometimes see ground 
coffee put up in paper packages ready for use; this 
is sold very cheap, and is usually a mixture of 
coffee and chicory. 

The coffee-plant has a great many enemies. 
Wild cats climb up the stem and run along the 
branches to get at the berries; and the squirrel 
nibbles them as he does nuts; to say nothing of 
the monkeys, who are always ready for a taste. 

In Ceylon, there is a kind of rat that lives in 
the forest, and makes its nest in the roots of the 
trees. It comes into the plantation in swarms 
to feed on the berries. Its teeth are as sharp as 
a pair of scissors, and it gnaws through the 


72 


AUNT MARTHA S 


branch that has the fruit upon it, and lets it fall 
to the ground, where it can feast at its leisure. 
It is very provoking to the planter to find all 
the delicate twigs and branches cut off, and he 
wages war against the rats. 

The natives of the opposite coast of India 
think the flesh of the rat, fed as it is on such 
decicate fare, very nice, and they come and work 
in the plantations on purpose to get as many of 
them as they can. They fry them in oil and 
season them with hot spices, and call the dish 
“corrie.” 

The little boys were sorry when Aunt Martha 
came to the end of her “story of the coffee,” and 
wanted to know a great many things about the 
brave man who went without drinking, in order 
to water the plants and get them safe to their 
journey’s end. 

Aunt Martha could not answer all their ques¬ 
tions, for she was tired of talking, and wanted 
her tea. But she made a promise that the next 
time she went to the city, if Charley and Richard 
were along, she would take them into a restaurant 
and give them each a cup of coffee. 

Charley said it was a long time to wait for that 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


73 


treat; but if their aunt would let them, they 
should like to get up a little sooner each morn¬ 
ing and grind the coffee for breakfast, as Aunt 
Martha had a little mill of her own and ground her 
coffee as she used it. And then they remembered 
old Sally’s ignorance, and how they must tell her 
where the coffee came from, and all about it. 

Yes, it was very plsasant indeed to know a 
few things, and to be able to teach other people. 
And Richard thought of a little schoolfellow of 
his, and of how much he should have to tell him 
when he got back to school. 

When old Sally brought in the tea, she set a 
dish of new-laid eggs upon the table, and Aunt 
Martha gave one to each of her guests. Charley 
was talking away, and not thinking of what he 
was doing, so he upset the salt-cellar, and spilt 
all the salt on the table-cloth. Aunt Martha 
asked him if he knew where salt came from. He 
answered very quickly, “From the grocery.” 
But then Richard wanted to know where the 
grocer got it from. 

Instead of telling them, Aunt Martha said it 
was well for Charley that he did not live in olden 
times, when salt w r as very scarce, or he would 


74 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


have got into disgrace for wasting it. For in 
those days it was dear, and people took much 
more care of it than they do now. One 
large salt-cellar used to be set in the middle of 
the dinner-table, and everybody helped himself 
to a little. It was the custom for the master and 
mistress to sit above the salt-cellar, and all the 
servants to take their places below it. 

Yes, indeed, he would have got into trouble 
then if he had spilt the salt. And Aunt Martha 
promised that to-morrow night she should tell 
them—“The Story of the Salt.” 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


75 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE STORY OF THE SALT. 

There is something on the lower shelf of the 
corner cupboard, that is of more importance than 
many of its neighbors. 

You might contrive to live without either tea 
or coffee, as people were obliged to do in years 
gone by before they knew anything about these 
drinks. But what would you do without salt? 
What would become of your nice relishing dishes, 
if salt did not season them? They would taste 
no better than white of egg. 

Nay, you would not have those rosy cheeks, 
nor be able to scamper about from morning till 
night as you do now. You would be pale and 
sickly; and I hardly think you could live with¬ 
out the little harmless doses of salt you are al¬ 
ways taking in some form or other. 

On the great plains in the western part of the 
United States, where large herds of cattle are 
kept, the cattle and the deer come a long way to 
get a taste of salt. The salt is in some well or 
spring that bubbles up among the grass; and the 


76 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


water leaves it behind like a crust on the stones 
that may chance to be lying about; and the grass 
all round tastes very much of salt. 

The place is called a “salt-lick,” because the 
cattle keep licking at the stones. They are sure 
to find their way to the salt-lick, even though 
they live miles from it. And they keep crop¬ 
ping the grass, and licking the salt, till they 
have had enough, and then they go home again. 
They make a path on the grass with their hoofs, 
and quite tread it down. Years ago, when these 
plains were the home of the buffalo, hunters 
used to lie in wait by these paths, and shoot the 
animals as they came along. 

The man who owns the salt-lick very often 
begins to bore down into the ground. He thinks 
he may find a salt-mine, or, at least, a way 
underground that leads to one, and then he can 
get quite rich and become a person of import¬ 
ance. 

A man once came to a salt-lick and tasted the 
water. He found it was all right, and that when 
he boiled some in a kettle and let it get cold 
there was a crust of salt at the bottom. He was 
highly delighted, and bought the land, and set 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


77 


people on to bore. But, alas! there was no salt 
to be found anywhere. A cunning hunter had 
put salt into the spring, and sprinkled it on the 
grass, to entice the deer, and make them believe 
the place was a salt-lick. And so the poor man 
had spent his money for nothing! 

In some places the salt-licks are very far apart, 
and the cattle can hardly ever get to them. The 
cattle have plenty of food, and large rich pas¬ 
tures to browse in; but they long for a bit 
of salt, and there is none for them. Once 
a fortnight their master lets them come home 
to the farm, and gives each of them a bit of salt. 
The cows and horses know the right day as well 
as can be, and they set off at full gallop to the 
farm. The farmer is quite ready for them; and 
when they have had their salt they trot back 
again to the fields, as contented as possible. 

In Norway, when the farmer’s wife goes out 
with her maidens to collect her cows and have 
them milked, she takes a bowl of salt in her 
hand. The moment the cows see it, they come 
running up from all parts of the field, as if ask¬ 
ing for some. Their mistress gives each of them 
a large spoonful, and expects them to be satis* 



( 78 ) 


SALT DESERT IN AFRICA 






CORNER CUPBOARD 


79 


ged. But sometimes a cow is greedy, and wants 
more, and keeps pressing to the bowl until it 
becomes quite troublesome; and then the mistress 
gives it a box on the ears with the wooden spoon, 
to teach it better manners. 

There is a desert in Africa where the ground 
under foot is not sand, but salt. It is called the 
“Salt Desert;” and the salt sparkles in the sun 
with such a* crystal whiteness that people who 
travel upon it are almost blinded. 

Because salt is so useful and so necessary, it 
is found in great abundance. The great wide 
sea could not keep sweet and fresh without salt. 
People put the sea-water in large shallow pans, 
and let the sun dry it up. The salt found at the 
bottom is called “bay salt,” and is very bitter. 
And sometimes it is mixed with other things— 
such as a relation called Epsom salts, that has a 
disagreeable taste, and is used as a medicine. 

But the salt makes its way from the sea by all 
kinds of secret paths under the ground, and then 
it is found in places called mines, and is named 
“rock salt.” The mine is like a great deep 
cavern, and has tall pillars of salt to hold up the 
roof; and the roof, and the walls, and the pillars 


80 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


glitter as though they were covered with precious 
stones. 

When any person of consequence comes to 
visit the mine, the men who are at work make a 
great illumination. They stick torches here and 
there as thickly as they can, and then light them 
up, so that the place looks like a fairy palace. 

The mine I am speaking of is near the town of 
Cracow in Poland. A person enters the mine by 
being let down in a hammock by means of a 
rope; and he goes down, down, a very long way. 
And then when he stops, he is not at his jour¬ 
ney's end; for he has to get out of his hammock, 
and go along a pathway that descends lower and 
lower, till it reaches the mine. 

The pathway is sometimes cut into steps, like 
a great wide staircase, and glitters with the light 
of the torches that the miners carry in their 
hands. And the road leads through a great 
chamber or room where a thousand people might 
dine. 

When the traveller reaches the mine he finds 
himself in a country under ground, such as per¬ 
haps he had no idea of before. 

There is neither sun nor sky. But there are 




CORNER CUPBOARD. 


81 



cross-roads, with horses, and carriages going along 
them. And there are crowds of men, women, 


A SALT MINE. 

and children, who live always in the mine. Some 
of the children have lived there all their lives, 
and have never seen the daylight. 







82 


aunt Martha’s 


Most of the horses, when once taken down, do 
not come up again. There are numbers of cav¬ 
erns, little and big, and some of them are made 
into stables, and the horses are kept there. The 
roofs of the caverns are supported on pillars of 
salt, and roads branch from them in all direc¬ 
tions. They reach so far, and wind about so 
much, that a man may easily get lost. If his 
torch happens to go out, he wanders about till 
his strength is quite gone; and if nobody finds 
him, he lies down and dies. 

I have read of a salt-mine—also in Poland—in 
which there is a pretty chapel cut out of the 
salt, and called the “Chapel of St. Antony.” 

The King of Poland used to be the owner of 
the mines; but Poland has no king now, and they 
belong to Austria. 

There are also salt mines in England and 
other countries; but the fine white salt we use 
on our tables comes from salt springs or wells. 
Salt wells are numerous in New York, Ohio, 
and Michigan, and some other states. The 
water from these wells is evaporated, either by 
the sun or by fire, and the salt remains in the 
kettle. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


83 


In most places, large flat pans are used for 
evaporating the brine. The pans are set over a 
fire place having a large chimney at one end. 

In Syracuse, New York, there is quite a village 
of these chimneys, as extensive salt-works are 
located there. 

Aunt Martha concluded by remarking how 
much pleasanter it is to live above ground, and 
see the cheerful light of the sun, and to walk in 
the green fields, and to breathe the fresh air. 
Do not the boys think so? 

Charley said he did; but if he ever went 
down into a mine he should mind and take a box 
of matches with him. He thought then if his 
torch went out, he should stand quite still and 
light it again. 

Aunt Martha agreed with him that would be 
the best plan, but she hoped they might nfever 
have a chance of trying it. 

Charley wondered at the cattle liking salt so 
much. He could understand their liking sugar, 
but salt was not nice at all—and he put a little 
into the palm of his hand to taste. It was very 
well with egg or potatoes, but he should not like 
to lick it as the cattle did. 


84 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


Richard said the coachman had told him that 
salt was very good for horses, and made their 
coats finer; and that when they could not get it 
they were neither so well nor so handsome. 

Aunt Martha said that was quite true. 

But at this moment their attention was diverted 
by Sally’s placing on the table a large plum- 
cake. Now the boys had seen this cake being 
made, and had asked old Sally ever so many 
questions about the currants she was putting 
into it. Did they grow on trees? Did they come 
from the same country as the coffee? For Char¬ 
ley had told her the history of the coffee—and 
indeed all the other stories. 

So the arrival of the cake brought the currants 
to mind, and both the boys began to question their 
aunt about them. But Aunt Martha said it was 
tea-time now, and she could not answer any 
questions. She hoped they would find the cake 
all the nicer for the currants that were in it, as 
she believed old Sally had put them in on pur¬ 
pose for them. At which Charley laughed a 
merry laugh, and begged Aunt Martha, if she 
were rested by to-morrow night, to tell them— 
“The Story of the Currants/’ 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


85 


CHAPTER VIII. 
the story of the currants. 

People use quite a wrong word when they 
talk about currants , meaning the currants we 
buy at the grocer’s, and which are not in the 
least degree related to the red and white bunches 
that hang in summer from the bushes in the 
garden. 

The mistake arose from Corinth, the name of 
one of the places where the currants grow. Peo¬ 
ple chose to speak of them as “Corinths,” and in 
time the word became changed into currants. 
Currants, indeed! Why, they belong to the ele¬ 
gant family of grapes, that hang in white and 
purple clusters in the vineyards abroad. They 
too grow upon a vine, and are nothing in the 
world but grapes! 

It is also as much a mistake to call them plums, 
and talk about a “plum-pudding,” when there is 
not a single plum to be found in it. 

The little bush-like vine, on which the currants 
grow, requires a great deal of care. It has to be 
supported on sticks, and to have the earth loos- 


86 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


ened every now and then about the roots. It is 
subject to blight, and if the weather is too wet, 



CLUSTER OF GRAPES. 


is apt to be spoiled, and even killed. At all 
times it is very slow in bringing forth its fruit, 




CORNER CUPBOARD. 


87 


and the little grapes do not appear until the tree 
is six years old. 

This grape grows in some sunny islands near 
to Greece, in a sea called the Ionian Sea. If 
ever you read the history of Greece, you will 
find a great deal about the Ionian Islands. 

There are seven of them, and one of them is 
called Zante. It has high cliffs, and a pier where 
the people land from the ships and the boats. 
All kinds of persons are seen to land from the 
boats, and it is a pretty sight to watch their dif¬ 
ferent costumes and faces. There is the Greek, 
and the Venetian, and a great many other for¬ 
eigners; and among them is sure to be the Eng¬ 
lishman. 

The island is only sixty miles round, and 
there is a great plain stretching over nearly all 
of it, and some hills in the distance. There are 
pretty villages, and houses and gardens, and 
groves of oranges and lemons; and to stand on 
the hills and look over the plain, you would 
think it was one great vineyard. 

About the end of August, the grapes on the 
little bushy vines are ready to gather. The 
people in the island never eat plum-pudding or 


88 


aunt martha’s 


plum-cake, and they do not want the currants— 
for so, I think, I must call them, in spite of the 
word being wrong—they do not want the cur¬ 
rants for themselves. 

But these currants found their way to Eng¬ 
land, and then to the United States, and large 
quantities are used in both countries. So a 
great many men, women, and children are sent 
into the vineyards to gather the currants, and to 
get them ready for market. 

They pick off the little grapes, and lay them 
upon the stone floor of a room or shed, that has 
no roof, and is open to the sky. The sun pours 
down his beams upon them, and very soon dries 
them. If the weather keeps fine, all is well. 
But now and then there comes a great thunder¬ 
storm, and the rain pours in torrents. Then 
the currants begin to ferment, and are quite 
spoiled. So the owner does not try to sell them, 
but feeds them to his horses, and cows, and 
sheep. 

If the weather is fine, the currants get quite 
dry, and then they are taken away to a ware¬ 
house, and poured through a hole in the roof 
until the warehouse is full. This makes them 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


89 


cake together, as you see when you open a 
packet of them. 

In the warehouse they cake so much, that 
men have to dig them out with sharp instru¬ 
ments, when the time is come for putting them 
into barrels. Then a man used to get into the 
barrel, without shoes or stockings, and trample 
them down as they were poured in. And there 
were barrels enough to fill five or six ships. 

I should tell you that when the currants are 
brought to the warehouse, the keeper of the 
place has a paper given to him, saying how 
many of them there are. And in olden days a 
great fuss was made about the currants. The 
island belonged to the city of Venice, which was 
then in its glory. And five grave senators 
dressed in their robes used to meet to decide 
what the price of the currants was to be. And 
no one might buy them without asking leave of 
the Government. 

When the English came into power, they did 
rather a foolish thing. They laid a heavy tax 
on the currants, so that to eat them in puddings 
was like eating money. But very few people 
would buy them, and the little vines were neg- 


90 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


lected and left to die. The owners of them lost 
all their money, and had to borrow of the Jews. 
Indeed, there was so much grumbling, and so 
many complaints were made, that the tax had to 
be altered, and then the price of currants came 
down. 

So many ship-loads of currants are taken from 
the island that the people of Zante used to won¬ 
der what we did with them all. They were quite 
certain that we used them in dyeing cloth. 

When Charley heard that currants were really 
grapes, he jumped up to pick one off the dish 
and put it into water. There it lay and swelled 
itself out, till he could see quite plainly that it 
was a small, round grape. 

While Charley was looking at it on the palm 
of his hand, Richard went to fetch the map, that 
Aunt Martha might show them where the island 
of Zante was. But she would only open the 
atlas at the right map, and it took them a very 
long time to find Zante. 

Then they had a little talk about the high 
cliffs, and the pier, and the motley group of 
strangers who landed there. Richard knew 
what a pier was, for he had seen the one at Bos- 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


91 


ton. He remembered very well how the boats 
came, and set people down at the bottom of a 
flight of steps; and then he saw a great number 
of persons mount the stairs, and come on to the 
pier. 

Aunt Martha said there was one thing she 
thought the little boys would not like, if they 
went to Zante. It was a very lovely island, but 
every now and then they might feel the ground 
under their feet begin to tremble, and perhaps 
the house they lived in might be shaken down. 
Since she could remember, there had been such 
a severe shock of earthquake that the town of 
Zante was almost destroyed. 

An earthquake must be a terrible thing, Rich¬ 
ard thought. But now he had found Corinth on 
the map: was there anything interesting to be 
said about that? Yes. And Aunt Martha asked 
them if they could fell her who lived at Corinth 
for more than a year, and taught the people that 
Jesus, who had been crucified, was the Messiah. 

The boys looked very grave, and were obliged 
to confess they did not know. So then their 
aunt told them it was St. Paul; and that while 
he was there he wrote his Letter, or Epistle, as 


92 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


we call it, to the Romans. As soon as they were 
old enough, they would read for themselves what 
he had said in that letter. 

Charley said the word Corinth was not much 
like the word currant. And he did not like the 
idea of the currants being trodden down in the bar¬ 
rels by men with naked feet. Richard said cur¬ 
rants were dirty things, and he liked raisins 
better. Were they grapes too? Aunt Martha 
told them they were a larger kind of grape, 
which came from Spain, or California. 

As the atlas was on the table, they might as 
well show her where Spain was. 

She had a few raisins in her corner cupboard, 
and if Charley liked to put one in water* he 
would see what a large grape it was. 

Aunt Martha was about to rise and reach out 
the raisins, when she dropped her needle. For 
after tea she had taken it up to mend a hole in 
Richard’s glove. Charley soon found the needle, 
but when he had picked it up he began to look 
at it. Where did needles come from? Who 
made them? And how did they manage to make 
that hole for the eye? 

Aunt Martha had found the raisins, and would 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


93 


only talk about them now. One thing, she said, 
was enough at once. Tomorrow night she 
would answer his questions. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE STORY OF THE RICE. 

The yellow corn that waves in the field is one 
of the most useful plants that grows. It feeds 
hundreds and thousands of persons, and has been 
called “the staff of life.” But rice feeds millions 
—nay, hundreds of millions! 

Just open the map of Asia and look at it. Do 
you see the great peninsula of Hindustan? and 
do you see China, and Japan, and the islands 
around about? And turn to another map, where 
the New World is spread out before you. There, 
in the states of South Carolina, Louisiana, and 
Mississippi it is raised in large quantities, and it 
is also found in some places along the Danube 
river, where the rice grows and flourishes. 



94 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


And all the swarming hosts of China and of 
India feed on rice, and it is to them what bread 
is to us—the staff of life. 

People in those hot countries do not care for 
beef or mutton. A little boiled rice, seasoned 
with pepper, makes them a good dinner. In 



A RICE FIELD IN GEORGIA. 

the colder countries of Europe and America such 
is not the case. Rice is eaten, it is true, but 
rather smiled at for its simplicity. An English¬ 
man would indeed look very blank, if he had 
nothing set before him but a dish of rice for his 
dinner. 








CORNER CUPBOARD. 


95 


The rice plant wants a great deal of moisture 
and a hot climate; so it is found in those places 
where there is a hot sun, and a great deal of rain, 
or where the fields can be covered with water 
from a lake or river. 

When it does rain in the tropics, it pours in 
torrents, and comes from the clouds like a sheet 
of water. The water cannot run away all at once, 
and in some places forms a great lake. This is 
just the place for the rice to grow for it must be 
kept till nearly ripe with its head only just 
above water. 

Most of the rice is raised in China, Japan and 
India. The farmers use the rudest kind of tools, 
and the buffalo for teams. 

It is not very pleasant to work in the mud. 
But the farmer, and the buffalo that draws the 
plow, have to do it. They wade about as best 
they can; and here and there a bird with long 
legs, called a heron, stands patiently waiting for 
a fish in the middle of a rice-field, as if he thought 
fishes must be there. 

And here and there a little shed built on poles, 
with a man sitting inside it. A great many 
ropes are fastened to it, and spread over the field. 


96 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


A number of scare-crows are tied to the ropes, 
and the man in the shed makes them jump up 
and down. 

This is done to frighten away a flock of birds 
called “rice-birds,” that love to pick out the grain 
while it is soft and milky. When the odd-looking 



THE MAN IN THE SHED TO FRIGHTEN THE BIRDS. 

figures, or scare-crows, begin to jump about, the 
birds that have been picking and eating, and 
doing all the mischief they can, rise in the air 
and fly away. But as soon as the scare crows 
are at rest again, they come back, and go on 
feasting as if nothing had happened. 

In a month or two the flood is gone, and the 









CORNER CUPBOARD. 


97 


field looks as if it were covered with a waving 
crop of barley. Then conies the busy time of har¬ 
vest; and the villagers all turn out to reap, some¬ 
times up to their knees in mud. This muddy 
part of the business is not very healthy, and the 
people who work in the rice-field often die of 
fever. 

When there is no flood likely to come upon 
the ground, the water is made to stand upon it 
from some river. This process is called by the 
long name of “artificial irrigation.” This is a 
common plan for getting water to the fields in 
countries where little or no rain falls. 

We never need it in America where the clouds 
keep us amply supplied; and we never meet with 
such a machine as a water-wheel, set up for the 
purpose of pumping water on the land. Nor 
are we obliged to coax our rivers and streams up¬ 
hill, and then let them run down into the valleys. 
But all this is done in countries where it does 
not rain for months at a time. 

Some Chinese farmers are very fond of making 
terraces on the banks of a river, for their rice to 
grow upon. They plow the land with the 
help of the buffalo, for horses are not used. 


98 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


Both man and buffalo wade in mud, and seem 
quite contented. 

Then, when the land has been plowed, the 
rice-plants are brought from a hot-bed, and set in 
holes made on purpose. The holes are full of 
water, that has been pumped up from the river 
by the water-wheel. It is pumped up to the 



CHINAMEN SETTING THE RICE. 


top terrace, and then is let to run down all over 
the rest. 

This pumping goes on until the rice-stalks 
begin to turn yellow. Then the Chinaman 
knows that the plants have had enough, and 
stops. 

When the crops are ripe, the terraces have a 



CORNER CUPBOARD. 


99 


green and beautiful appearance, and look like 
gardens. 

Sometimes the little trickling rill is led many 
miles along the country to a rice-field that wants 
water; and no trouble is thought too great to en¬ 
sure a plentiful crop. 

There is a kind of rice that does not require 
all this watering. It is called mountain-rice, and 
grows in the island of Samatra, where it rains 
every few days. When the crop has been gath¬ 
ered in, the land is allowed to lie fallow for a 
time, and then it becomes covered with great 
jungle-grass as much as twelve feet high. In 
this tall grass the tiger hides himself, or the 
rhinoceros comes to graze. 

But when the ground is wanted for another 
crop, the tall grass has to be burned off. As 
soon as the fire is lighted, a loud, rustling noise 
is heard, and the great column of flame rises and 
sweeps along, till the whole ground is covered 
with a sheet of fire. 

If the traveller sees the column in the distance, 
he takes care to escape it if he can. But some¬ 
times it is too quick in its march for him to get 
away, and then woe betide him! 


100 


aunt martha’s 


In our own country the rice-fields can be 
drained before they are plowed, so the workmen 
and teams do not have to wade through mnd and 
water. Before the plants are set, the field is cov¬ 
ered with about two inches of water, and is 
flooded as often after planting as is necessary 
for a good crop. 

When the rice is ripe, it is cut, bound into 
bundles and stacked, like wheat. The hull sticks 
to the grain very tightly, so it is difficult to re¬ 
move by threashing. Much of this work is done 
by hand. 

When Aunt Martha had finished her story, she 
got up, and opening her corner cupboard, reached 
down a jar of rice for the boys to look at. After 
that, she showed them a picture of the plant 
itself, as it looks when growing. It had three 
ears on the top of each stalk, and each ear had 
awns to it. 

Charley said it was almost, only not quite, like 
barley. 

Richard said he should like to see a Chinaman 
plowing with his buffaloes, in the mud. He had 
once seen a Chinese giant: he wore his hair in a 
long pigtail down his back. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


101 


Charley asked what the ladies did to make 
their feet so small. 

Aunt Martha said that when they were babies, 



RICE-PLANT. 

their feet were fastened up in tight bandages, so 
that they could not grow. When Charley got 
home, he must ask his papa to take him to the 








102 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


museum, and show him all the curious things 
that were there. 

Aunt Martha had seen the museum long ago, 
and knew that a great many things in it had 
been brought from China. 

The boys then began to talk about the rice- 
puddings they had so many of at school. Charley 
so said he should like them better, now he knew 
many people lived on rice, without any meat at all. 

Aunt Martha observed that everything in her 
corner cupboard had told them its story. The 
tea-cup, and the tea, and the sugar, and the cof¬ 
fee, and the rice, and the salt, and the currants. 
It was well they were going home so soon, for 
there would be no more tales to tell. Yes, she 
believed everything had told them its story. 

Charley asked if he might see, and, before his 
aunt had time to reply, he had jumped on a 
chair, and was peering into her cupboard. What 
was that yellow jar hidden up so snug? What 
had that inside it? 

Aunt Martha said that indeed she had forgot¬ 
ten that; it was her honey-jar. If they liked, 
she would tell them a tale about Honey to finish 
with; it would be short and sweet. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


103 


CHAPTER X. 

THE STORY OF THE HONEY. 

Most of the things in my corner cupboard 
have been made, or, as it is called, manufactured , 
by man. And if he has not made them, he has 
at least prepared and got them ready for use. 
Even the tea, and the coffee, and the sugar have 
to pass through his hands before they come to 
the table. 

But I am going now to tell you about some¬ 
thing with which he has very little to do. He 
has neither made nor prepared it, and yet it 
is something we all like very much, and should 
be sorry to do without. 

The garden in summer-time if full of bright- 
colored flowers, the rose, and the honeysuckle, 
and the jessamine that climbs over the porch; 
and the white lily, and the pink, and the carna¬ 
tion and many others. Now in the deep recess 
of the flower a sweet juice lies hidden. It is not 
honey, but it is the stuff out of which honey is 
made. 

A hundred little workmen are busy carrying 


104 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


away the juice—or, as it is called, the nectar— 
for the very purpose of making honey. You 
will guess that I mean the bees. But the bees 
are very knowing, and they do not take the nec¬ 
tar out of all the flowers; they skip over some, as 
if they did not like them. 



THE BEE’S TONGUE—ENLARGED. THE BEE’S LEG—ENLARGED. 

The bee is very intent on its work. It lives 
in the hive by the garden wall: though it has 
plenty of relatives who do not live in a hive, but 
make their nests out in the fields and woods; but 
they all carry on the same trade,—that of honey¬ 
making. 






CORNER CUPBOARD. 


105 


No one can take any liberties with the bee, 
because it is armed with a sharp little sword, 
called a sting; but it is worth while to stand a 
minute and see what it is about. 

It has a tongue which is a great deal too long 
for its mouth, so it lies folded down on its breast. 
When the bee settles on a flower, it thrusts its 
long tongue deep into the very bottom of it. 
The tongue is like a sponge, and sucks up all 
the nectar. The nectar passes along the body 
of the bee to a curious little bag called the 
honey-bag, and that seems made on purpose to 
hold it. 

By-and-by the bees flies off home to the hive 
with its honey-bag quite full. The hive, as you 
know, has a great many cells in it made of wax, 
and they form what is called the honey-comb. 

The bee pushes its head into a cell, and emp¬ 
ties the honey by drops out of its honey-bag; and 
then comes another bee, and does the same, till 
the cell is quite full; and then it is closed up with 
a waxen lid to keep out the air. 

I do not pretend to find out a secret known only 
to the bee, but it is quite certain that the nectar 
by some means or other has became changed in- 


106 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


to honey. It is full of little bright crystals like 
sugar, and has a pleasant smell, and a taste I 
need hardly describe. 

All over the country, in the gardens and fields 
are the little honey-makers at work from mornr 
ing till night. They are doing it to lay up a 
store of food for themselves. But honey is very 



PART OF A HONEY-COMB. 

nice, and the wax that they make their comb of 
is very useful; so the bee is robbed every year. 

It would not be easy to rob the hive in an 
open and straigthforward way, because of the 
sharp little swords I have told you about. But 
the owner of the hive gets some round white 
balls that are found in the fields, and are called 





CORNER CUPBOARD. 


107 


furze balls, and sets them on fire under the hive. 
The smoke gets in among the bees, and makes 
them drop down as if they were dead. 

But, I am happy to say, they come to life 
again, though not before their beautiful comb 
with all its nice honey has been taken from 
them. 

When the honey has been poured out of the 
cells it is clear and liquid; but in this country, 
where the weather is never very hot, it soon 
hardens and thickens as you see when it is 
brought to table. 

A great many years ago, people used to drink 
a nice sweet wine called mead, and that was 
made of honey. 

We never hear about meads in these days, 
when so many different sorts of wines are 
brought to us from other countries. But in 
olden times mead was held in very high esteem; 
and the person who made it, and who was called 
“the mead-maker,” was thought to be of more 
importance than the doctor. 

In these days, though mead is out of fashion, 
honey and wax are considered part of the riches of 
the country, and are bought and sold everywhere. 


108 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


There is a bird called the honey-guide, that 
lives in Africa, in the country of the Hottentots. 
It is rather larger than a sparrow, and is so 
fond of honey that it is always on the lookout to 
get some. There are no bee-hives in that coun¬ 
try, but the bees make their nests in the hollow 
of a tree, or in some other sheltered place. 

The bird is sure to find its way to the bee’s- 
nest, but it does not like to attack it for fear of 
being stung. So it begins to call out in its own 
way for someone else to come; it makes a loud 
piercing cry, that is well known by all who are 
within hearing. 

Sometimes the bear is lurking about among the 
trees, and he hears it; and by-and-by he sees the 
bird perched on some branch close by. The bird 
flies towards the nest of the poor unsuspecting 
bees, and the bear follows; for he loves the taste 
of honey, and this is not the first time, by any 
means, that he has gone after the honey-guide. 
He does not much care about the stings, though 
they sometimes put him into a great passion. At 
any rate, he pulls out the nest with his feet and 
paws, and feasts on the honey; and while the bear 
is eating, the bird is sure to get as much as it wants. 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


109 


The Hottentot knows the voice of the honey- 
guide, and follows it with great delight. When 
he reaches the nest, he does not forget his kind 
friend; he takes care to leave behind that part of 
the comb which contains the eggs and the little 
grubs, for the bird likes these better even than 
the honey. 

And he would not catch or kill the honey- 
guide for any reward that could be offered. A 
traveller once told a Hottentot that he would 
give him any number of glass beads and a great 
deal of tobacco, if he would set a trap for the 
honey-guide. But the Hottentot would do noth¬ 
ing of the kind. 

“The bird is our friend,” he said, “and we will 
not betray it!” 

Richard and Charley were very sorry when 
Aunt Martha came to the end of her story; and 
they might have said more about their regret 
that it was to be the last, had not Charley espied 
old Sally reaching the jar of honey out of the 
cupboard. 

What was she going to do with it? Charley 
was not wrong in guessing; although, on sitting 
down to tea, he made believe to look surprised at 


110 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


a nice slice of bread and honey on the plate be¬ 
fore him. How good it was! 

He asked Aunt Martha why she did not keep 
bees, she had so many flowers in the garden. 

Aunt Martha said she thought about it, and 
that perhaps next time they came to see her, 
they might find that she had set up a bee-house. 

Charley hoped, if Aunt Martha did keep bees, 
she would not have them killed when the honey 
was taken; it was a shame to kill them when 
they had worked so hard. 

Richard said it was more cruel to take their 
honey, and leave them to starve. 

Aunt Martha said so it was; but that if she 
kept bees, she meant to take care of them,—for 
to keep bees, or birds, or any living thing, and 
not to be kind to them, was very wicked indeed. 

Richard said the boys at school kept rabbits, 
and sometimes forgot to feed them; but Charley 
had never forgotten to feed his. And he liked 
that Hottentot, and thought him a fine fellow 
for not betraying the honey-guide. He should 
have done just the same himself. 

When tea was over, Aunt Martha said, as she 
had no knitting to do that night, she should not 


CORNER CUPBOARD. 


Ill 


mind playing a game at chess; they two might 
be on one side, and she would be on the other. 
So when old Sally had taken away the tea things 
and made up the fire, Richard fetched out the 
chess-board, and he and Charley set the men. 

When the game began, Aunt Martha said she 
was afraid she should be beaten,—it would be 
hard to play against them both. The boys did 
not think so; and they were right,—for they first 
lost their knights, then their bishops, and then, 
to Charley’s dismay, their queen. Old Sally 
tapped at the door to take them off to bed, just 
as Aunt Martha had got their king into a cor¬ 
ner, and contrived to say checkmate! 

The next day, the boys returned to school. 
Aunt Martha was very sorry to part with them; 
but old Sally predicted they were going back to 
learn, and she was not a bit afraid of their turning 
out dunces. 

Old Sally was right; for the two boys had no 
sooner got back to school than they set to work 
in earnest; indeed, the very first thing they did 
was to pull out of the desk their dog-eared geog¬ 
raphy. They wanted to see if it said anything 
about the places their aunt had told them of in 


112 


AUNT MARTHA’S 


her stories. When they found that it did, they 
hastened from one to another of the great maps 
which hung on the school-room wall, talking all 
about Brazil and China, Zante and Corinth. 

They were so anxious to learn, that Dr. Birch 
could hardly believe they were the same boys 
who had only cared for tops and marbles. Nor 
did his wonder cease when, week after week, 
their lessons were well said, their copies neatly 
written, their sums done without mistakes; 
when, in fact, from lazy, idle boys, they became 
good, industrious scholars! 

Ah! how they enjoyed their play-time! Yet 
play-time was not half so joyful as going home 
for the holidays, for Dr. Birch had sent a kind 
letter to their papa, saying how hard they had 
worked, and that he was quite contented with 
them. 

And so the two boys, who had before been so 
idle and ignorant, grew up industrious and 
learned men. They were, besides, able to be kind 
and good to others; for that is the real use of learn¬ 
ing—as we hope our little readers will one day 
find out for themselves, even if they have not an 
Aunt Martha, and a Corner Cupboard. 


"ALMO ST A.LLOQCUPATJONS ARE CHEERED AND LIGHTENED BY MUSIO."— BRYANT . 


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are selected but have been especially harmonized for use in school^ Be¬ 
sides the 52 songs there are 4 pages of Partriotic Gems in prose and verse, 
and historical sketches, etc. Price, 116 pages, board binding, 30 cents. 

Hanson’s Primary and Calisthenic Songs. 

By S. C. Hanson. Containing Exercise and Motion Songs, Bird 
Songs, Christmas Songs, Solos, etc. The melodies are pretty, cheer¬ 
ful, inspiring, and well written. The motions have been carefully 
adapted to the words aud the directions and explanations clearly 
given. Some of the leading advantages to be secured by good primary 
and calisthenic exercises are obedience, politeness, ease and gracefulness 
of action, promptness in executing commands, development of the 
voice, etc. Price, 50 cents. -• ' , w 

In addition to the above, ,we carry all .the song books published by 
other houses, and send at their prices. Our list of kindergarten song 
books sent on request. 

A. FLANAGAN, Publisher, 

CHICAGO. 

) . ’ - > %" r> ' . ~ - r- .?■ "V r 











“The love of books .is a love which requires neither justification, 
apology nor defence.’’—L angford. 


Other Valuable Works. 


GIFFIN'S SUPPLEMENTARY WORK 
IN ARITHMETIC. 

A Manual for Teachers and Pupils. Price, $1.00. 

ENSIGN'S HISTORY OUTLINES. Teachers’ Edition. 

Sixty-five thousand copies sold. * Pupils’ edition — used 
extensively. - 

Price, each above, 25 cents. 

BEEBE'S LABORATORY MANUAL. 

A short course in Practical Chemistry, suited to all students 
beginning laboratory work. Each day’s work is related to 
what has gone before and what is to follow. It is not merely 
a set of unrelated experiments. The book contains 120 pages, 
well bound-in flexible cloth, and sells for 36 ceuts postpaid. 

BETZ GYMNASTIC MANUALS. Adopted by the 

U. S. Government for use in all the Indian schools under its 

charge., - ; • . - pM 

FREE GYMNASTICS. 160 pages, price 75 cents. 

LIGHT GYMNASTICS. Contains exercises with Dumb¬ 
bells, Rings, Wands, Poles,Tndian Clubs, etc. Price 75 cents; ; 
one each for $1.25. 


We are agents for the Standard Literature Series, works of stand¬ 
ard authors for supplementary reading, very well gotten 
\ up. Low prices ^2 to 20 cents. Send for List. 


Wri 


rmatioa in whatever you may be “ IN THE DARK.’ 




A. FLANAGAN , 267 WABASH AVE., CHICAGO. 
























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